holidays

A Chanukah Noel: A True Story

annette — Tue, 21 Dec 2010 08:00:00 +0000

A Chanukah Noel is a welcome addition to the limited but much-needed canon of interfaith children’s books, and it has the particular additional benefit of being entirely secular. This combination of qualities already sets it apart from most Christmas picture books. The story is about a young Jewish girl named Charlotte who moves to rural France and struggles to fit in. She is held back several grades until she learns French, she’s called ‘the foreigner’ by a classmate, she’s afraid she’ll be left out of the Christmas grab bag gift swap, and her parents tell her she has to study French while everyone else is enjoying their Christmas vacation. She finds Chanukah a poor substitute for what she sees going on around her–decorations, lights, a traditional travelling Christmas market, shops full of gifts and rich foods. It’s not entirely altruism-driven when she hits upon a great way to support a poorer classmate who celebrates, but can’t afford all the trappings. She convinces her parents to let her experience Christmas by proxy: they do all the usual holiday preparations and then donate the food, gifts and decorations to her classmate’s family.

The protagonist is flawed, but in touch with her emotions. Parents of children in Charlotte’s position will find this story valuable for modelling emotional literacy. Envy is named and owned, distinctions are made between religious and national customs, and the word miracle, which is nearly always used in religious Christmas and Chanukah stories, is applied very specifically to human generosity in this one.

It’s a very matter-of-fact take on a real experience of a child whose family doesn’t celebrate Christmas, and it acknowledges the benefits of sharing cultural traditions. The portrayal of class is glossed over more than some may like–a very brief conversation, where Charlotte insists that the family who receives the Christmas goose and decorations would be doing her a favour–sums up the exchange in a way that makes sense from the point of view of the young main character, and may oversimplify the complex hierarchy of charitable giving, but an event at the end of the story equalizes the exchange. This is a true story, and I appreciated it in the sense that it was a snippet of a real event retold to the author and illustrator. From that perspective, it stands alone well. However, after the story ended, I wanted to know more: why did they have to move to France? Was it during the war? A little more recently? Did it take Charlotte a long time to learn French? Unfortunately, these questions aren’t answered, but the rich honesty of the story–despite its deceptively simple narrative–makes me want to hear from this author and illustrator again.

Speaking of the illustrations, the expressiveness in each picture combined with the slightly muted color palate gives the impression of old film footage. The Christmas market actually looked just like the local ones that visit Yorkshire every year, to my surprise and delight. People, landscapes and kitchen utensils are afforded the same attention to detail and fit well with the story.

Half my family is Jewish and the other half is Catholic, and we do a bit of both holidays every December. I missed out on secular interfaith holiday books as a kid, and really appreciated this story personally. More, please.

Written by: Chella Quint, December 21st 2010

Winter Wonderfuls: Dark Chocolate Crunchy Peanut Butter Snowmen

admin — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Sjaaks Organic Chocolates

I finished the last Dark Chocolate Crunchy Peanut Butter Snowman on the wintriest day in Atlanta. Anyone who is familiar with the city and its weather knows that snow covered roofs, cars, trees, and streets meant a snow day for hundreds of thousands of adults and kids alike. So it was one of those rare and perfect days to stay in and enjoy a chocolate-y treat!

Originally, I was a bit perplexed to find a box of nine little, white, individually wrapped, peanut butter snowmen waiting to be consumed. Crunchy peanut butter chocolate didn’t strike me as festive, and the snowmen looked like they were in costume for Halloween, but the box's homemade graphic appeal and the ease with which the snowmen could be shared won me over.

More importantly, and always exciting when it comes to edible indulgences, is that Sjaak’s chocolates are certified organic and fair trade. They also have a great selection of vegan products that would make anyone’s mouth water. It’s worth visiting Sjaak’s website, not only for its visual delight but also for its history and socially responsible mission.

As for the chocolate itself, I had mixed feelings. While the crunchy peanut butter filling delivered on the crunchiness, it wasn’t as flavorful as I’d hoped. It was also kind of slim because of the thick chocolate coating. Then again, the chocolate was the real winner, with a somewhat fudge-y, smooth taste and feel.

While the Winter Wonderfuls wouldn’t be at the top of my holiday wish list, they were a great introduction to Sjaak’s Organic Chocolates. Anyone who has a taste for organic, vegan-friendly chocolate should exploring the rest of their products. (They even have dark chocolate lavender truffles!)

Written by: Irene Wazgowska, February 1st 2010

Don’t Say I Didn’t Warn You: Kids, Carbs, and the Coming Hormonal Apocalypse

admin — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 17:01:00 +0000

By Anita Renfroe

Voice

Sassy southern belle Anita Renfroe’s sharp and charming wit weaves together a series of essays on everything from body image, motherhood, and the holiday season in Don't Say I Didn't Warn You. The book is the kind of happy, light read you just cannot put down.

Without bombarding you with a barrage of jokes like so many other books by comedians, Renfroe shares the lighter side of her world, and you laugh alongside her. She makes up her own pseudo-psychological terms: “Compulsive Counsel Disorder,” a mother’s inability to hold back from doling out advice; “RAD: Remodeling Affective Disorder,” what invigorates type-A people to complete all the projects they have been meaning to do all year.; and the “Tiny Tote-r,” a woman who a woman who can pack a mountain into a mole hill. The made-up terminology brings an unexpected layer of depth and humor to many of the vignettes.

The range of her new dictionary definitions give a glimpse of the topics covered throughout the book but only scratch the surface. The first third of the book focuses on the experience of motherhood particularly her own most poignant yet humorous moments as a mom. The second is a mish-mash of stories of her family and her thoughts on body image and the modern American woman. The last third is all about the holidays, trials and triumphs.

As Renfroe jumps from topic to topic, her voice strings the scatter of essays together and demonstrates her comedic vision. As much as I loved the variety, the essays felt somewhat disjointed, as if she took the strongest jokes from her acts and extended each one into an essay. There is a flow from piece to piece, but just barely; Renfroe relies on your following the stream of laughs instead of providing a clearly defined path from Point A to Point B.

This aside, with its appeal to motherly instincts and emphasis on the silliness of family and the holidays, I have found my mom’s Christmas present, though I will be sure to make clear this is not a plea for my mother to succumb to another bout of Compulsive Counsel Disorder.

Written by: Nicole Levitz, December 9th 2009